


Screamin' inside

by GwenChan



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha America (Hetalia), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Bonding, Dystopia, First Time, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, NSFW, Not Beta Read, Omega England (Hetalia), Omega Verse, Out of Character, Smut, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8117827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwenChan/pseuds/GwenChan
Summary: Arthur is an Omega who could leave an oppressive Europe thanks to Alfred, an Alpha. However freedom comes with a price.[Spin off from "'cuz fate is naturally perverse][Dub/con]





	

**Screamin’ inside**

 

  
_It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word_  
_We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard_  


 

Arthur was on the verge of crying and making a scene, the kind you would expect from a whiny brat and not from a mature adult like he proclaimed to be. After all he had always been prone to bottle up his emotions as suitable for a proper gentleman. In the end he always ended reaching his break point in the worst moments ever, like dinners with colleagues, business reunions, too crowded public transportations. They were only some examples. Days spent controlling himself with a bunch of cretins to distance from himself the stereotype linked with being an omega ended up completely wasted in the span of few minutes.

He was like a kettle left too long on the stove.

His latest tantrum had happened a week before, more or less, and the frustration piling up in the closet in his mind was starting to feel unbearable. It had been a week, since Alfred – the American alpha who-was-something-more-than-a-friend- decided to install in Arthur’s home without being invited and not understanding to be a nuisance. Arthur had tried to dissuade him, but Alfred continued to play deaf.

“I’ll be at your place the day after tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ve already bought the plane ticket.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I’m on the plane.”

“Not my business:”

“I’m at your door, open!”

 

And Arthur had always had a too soft heart for his own survival.

 

It was an argyle sock that persisted in dangling from the suitcase to be the last straw for a new breakdown. The low, a little whiny sound from the bottom of Arthur’s throat quickly became a high-pitched scream when the luggage clasp got stuck for the fourth time in a row.

The kettle in his mind started to fume.

“Is there something wrong?”

Even a dumb like Alfred, all muscles and zero brain, could avoid such a question. The bitter show of an adult man bawling and punching the suitcase, sat on the floor among tons of unpaired socks should’ve been enough to know that something was definitely wrong.

“Is there something wrong? Is there something wrong!”

It was wrong that a ticket for the US with his name stamped on it was waiting on his bed-table.

It was wrong that Alfred would’ve soon become his alpha, as society decided.

It was wrong that Alfred hadn’t the slighted sense of personal space.

It was wrong he had to live the rest of his life far from home, even if in America he would’ve been freer.

It was wrong Alfred was so cheerful, so helpful, so fucking perfectly alpha.

“Leave me alone.”

Arthur usually ended calming down by himself in a couple of minutes, as long as nobody commented. However Alfred crouched down beside him, took a sock and started playing with it. Meanwhile he began to release a type of alpha pheromones that talked about safety and warmness and a dry nest and all the things useful to calm an omega. Arthur calmed down. At least his omega calmed down. Arthur wanted to continue to shout, saying he was not a kit, happy with a couple of pats on the head and some sweet words.

He wanted to shout with all his might, but how could he do this when he had an alpha that was so … perfect. Alfred took care of closing the suitcase; he bought dinner from a Chinese take-away and set Arthur in the armchair, all snuggled up under cover like a stupid burrito.

 

They left soon after with no further ado. Alfred lived in a nice apartment in Connecticut, the kind you couldn't afford unless you were an alpha or a very, very rich beta. It was spacious and well lit. It gave Arthur the impression it would've seemed bigger if Alfred had been tidier.

Sat in bed, eyes full with jet-lag insomnia, Arthur touched with his knuckles the imperceptible scar right under his right ear, where the authorities had implanted a track chip. It had been the last requirement to leave England. Having an alpha at his side was the first. Nails substituted the knuckles. The scar itched, more due to suggestion though. Still the more Arthur thought about it, the more it was becoming unbearable. In his neck there was a government chip for finding him wherever he was. He couldn’t escape anymore. Wherever he decided to go, technology in the end would’ve found him. Trying to remove the chip would’ve only worsened the problem – the chip was so sensible that a light touch was enough to alarm the competent offices.

Above all, it was a memento. If he hadn’t bonded with an alpha by the following year, Arthur would’ve been repatriated right there. Asking political asylum on American soil was out of question, since the US Government had decided to negate it to any omegas carrying a European passport. The same discourse went for citizenship.

Arthur was in trap, a trap he created by himself.

He buried his face in the pillow and cried through his teeth.

 

Arthur wanted to shout because Alfred kept delaying what was inevitable. Alfred didn’t seem to be particularly bothered by the matter. Why would he? He was an alpha by birth. He would’ve always had the whole world at his feet; every door open; every chance offered on a silver trail on a red carpet. Society would’ve always granted his every request. Even the so-called “bond”, that people flaunted as fundamental for a sane and natural alpha-omega relationship, didn’t bind an alpha by no means. An alpha could divorce giving almost no justification. In some states an alpha could repudiated their omega. At least with divorce the omega could hope for a little economical support from the ex spouse and, if lucky, from the country.

An alpha didn’t have to worry.

At the beginning Arthur had believed that Alfred didn't claim his pound of flesh – he wanted to shout so much – out of kindness, the only thing that still distinguished them from beasts. Nevertheless weeks, wrapped in a tension Arthur soon began to find unbearable and he wondered how could the other man be so oblivious – became months. The American man didn’t show any initiative.

They had left at the end of spring. When the first signs of autumn started to show, Arthur understood he had to be the one to take initiative. It was like having a glowing orb of steel stuck in his throat.

 

Everything would’ve been way damn easier if Alfred decided to use his own pheromones. Not the boring ones that from time to time were helpful in calming Arthur when he had a breakdown, but the pheromones with a strong scent able to seduce an omega to an alpha will. Smelling them just a bit was enough to forget any inhibition – any form of human dignity – and bend before his own alpha, begging him to take him, if the alpha was prone to it. Nothing was more important than pleasing your own alpha.

Arthur wanted to scream.

 

Pheromones were reserved to alpha. They were another proof of their power. Omegas, on the contrary, had their scent. This, however, wasn’t strong enough to seduce someone if not during heat. Arthur would’ve rather not arrive to that point.

He took his head, while a solution started to make its way in his mind. There was a way to induce on Alfred the effects caused by an omega heat without the actual heat.

For Arthur that would’ve meant a ton of frustration to bottle up. Farewell good health.

 

He began to agree with everything Alfred said. He acted like a perfect submissive wife, like in a movie from the Fifties. Maybe his new behaviour would’ve surprised Alfred, but Arthur was interested in waking up what nature had written in his companion alpha DNA. Alpha were born for protecting their partners and pups and showing submission helped in reminding them of the fact.

Arthur bit his lips for preventing him from scolding Alfred who had again forgot to say, “please” after asking him something.

He wanted to yell that he wasn’t his handmaid.

Still it was exactly what Alfred had to believe, for everyone sake. The sooner he wrapped his head around the idea that an omega had to obey to his will, the sooner the whole subject would’ve been set.

 

The second step for Arthur was stopping taking his suppressants, to allow his omega body to readjust to all the stimulus science aimed to impede. For the first time Arthur truly smelled Alfred scent. A portion of him wished he could push the man under the shower jet; the other loved it and wanted more.

The third and last step was stopping taking showers for some days.

Arthur wanted to scream.

 

Arthur had never been good in the art of seduction. Usually he preferred to leave such burden to the others. It was less tiring and more dignified. However, hoping for Alfred to seduce him, despite the latest developments, required a patience Arthur had already lost. The matter would’ve been postponed indefinitely.

Arthur looked at the calendar, deciding he would’ve bonded with Alfred the next Saturday. Forever. He would’ve renounced his freedom, dignity, and rights. And the icing on the cake was that he was doing all by himself.

He pressed nails in his forearms to stop himself from crying. He didn’t want Alfred to see him in such condition. He didn’t want Alfred to use those pheromones of his that damn it had a so sweet and calming perfume. Alfred would’ve cuddled him and blown up everything.

Arthur didn’t need a sweet Alfred.

Alphas were not sweet.

Alphas were bossy, used to take without asking and in abundance.

Alphas stayed on top. Omegas crawled down below.

 

The dinner went smoothly. Arthur had a conflictual relationship with cooking, but Alfred had ingested so much junk food in nineteen years of life that he had lost his sense of tasting long ago. In the end their respective flaws were balanced.

During the whole evening, Arthur was such a bundle of coaxing he was on the verge of vomiting for a sugar indigestion. There were his smell – he hadn’t showered in a couple of days – and Alfred’s, for whom thousands of showers wouldn’t have improved the situation.

Arthur wanted to scream so badly. Instead he bowed and left the scene. His omega side took the opportunity too sit in Alfred’s lap. There was a moment of tension, then Arthur felt Alfred’s arm around his stomach. A light growl rose from the man’s throat. Arthur turned his head to watch the other in the face and noticed his frowned brow and his blue eyes, soon darkened by desire. The American man buried his nose in Arthur’s hair.

Alfred started to release his seducing pheromones without even noticing.

 

One of the advantages of seducing an alpha without being in heat was that the partners were able to keep a minimum of lucidity. At least it was the case for the alpha. Alfred had still enough control to scoop Arthur in his arms to the bedroom.

At first Arthur believed he had still, more or less, control on the situation. On his back, with Alfred on his pelvis, he bended over to help his alpha undress and to please him. Alfred however didn’t appreciate the effort. He roughly pushed away Arthur’s hand from his crotch. He blocked his arms behind the head.

“Have I said you could do something?”

“No, sir,” Arthur squeaked. He was on the verge of tears.

“I won’t do it again,” he promised. His mouth formed a single pleading hiccup. The omega needed Alfred. He needed an alpha to take him and brand him as his.

The omega knew an alpha would’ve protected him, as long as he had submitted.

The omega was happy to do so.

“Please!”

Alfred slowly caressed his cheek and Arthur understood. It was so ridiculously simple. Alphas were born to defend omegas, not to abuse or submit them. Submission had been a natural development, as it was easier to protect a meek creature than a rebel. An alpha, even full with sexual desire, didn’t care for his own pleasure, if not in the measure needed to cum in an omega. An alpha expected an omega to remain absolutely passive. The fact that omegas were born with the instinct of pleasing, even sexually, their alpha didn’t matter.

They couldn’t do anything.

This was the twisted world they lived in. They walked on path destined not to cross.

Arthur wanted to scream.

It was beyond frustration by now. Alfred pheromones had finally succeeded in cancelling from the Englishman mind any thought not related to be taken by an alpha. Arthur couldn’t even do something for Alfred to speed things up.

 

When Alfred bended over and kissed him lightly on the lips, Arthur hoped that maybe, _maybe_ , they could make love as two consentient adults, as two people on the same social level. Alfred moved away too soon, cutting off every attempt to deepen the kiss or show any other sign of tenderness. He slid his forearm between the omega back and the mattress, pushing to sign he wanted Arthur to turn. So that was how things were. Arthur would’ve even been denied the possibility to watch him in the face. Still he had no intention of protesting. It wouldn’t have changed anything and he had forgotten what protesting meant.

An omega didn’t protest.

 

“You’re mine,” Alfred murmured with a voice that was still too soft. It hurt. It was soft and condescending. Arthur wanted to scream till his lugs were empty. He wanted to yell to not being so kind. Not a sound escaped his lips. The omega had no reason to scream. He had an alpha that would’ve kept him safe and sound forever. Yelling would’ve been truly ungrateful. The omega was happy, he was fulfilling his duty and his alpha was talking with a gentle voice.

It was enough.

Alfred pressed a hand on Arthur’s nape. With the other he traced the backbone profile down to the buttocks. He bare and divided them. Arthur stiffened, moving a little to rub his groin against the mattress, searching for a little release from the friction. When Alfred stopped with a warning growl, however, the man renounced. The growl became a grunt of smug satisfaction. The hand moved to caress his chest. Arthur held breath in anticipation. The hand went down on the abdomen.

“Please,” he moaned in a single hiccup. He started to cry for a mixture of emotions. Above all there was this enormous, unbearable sense of impotence. Arthur didn’t feel just helpless. It was like being struck with the sudden awareness of being the smallest and weakest creature on Earth. The gratitude for the alpha suffocated him.

He was alone.

The hand started to palm him between his legs. Finally. The other hand began to work around his hole, already wet with the slick omegas produced when aroused. Arthur didn’t even think about asking Alfred to use lube. He could only hope the alpha considered it appropriate. Hearing the snap of a cap being opened and the liquid sound of the cream just made him cry harder.

Alfred leant over to whisper some words in his ear. He told Arthur he would’ve been his. He told him to be happy. He would’ve been his forever. How could he refuse? There was a knot in his chest so tight it seemed he had forgotten how to be happy. Every rough caress on his cock made the omega moan with approval.

Arthur wanted to scream.

The omega prayed for Alfred to continue. The omega purred when the cold lube warmed for the alpha’s gestures touched his skin. Arthur arched his body in feeling the man swift fingers finding their way inside him, moving as they pleased as deep as they could.

Arthur wanted all of that to end right there. How could he even think it was a good idea? What strange drug had he assumed to go spontaneously in a similar situation? He hated Alfred, he hated himself and Life and everything else.

Alfred grabbed his hair to pull his head and expose his pale neck. Alfred’s lips posed on the delicate skin, sucking a little. Arthur felt the man cock pressing on his butt. The mouth opened.

“Mine!”

With no further ado, Alfred pushed into him, moving until the knot at the base of his cock started to swell to seal their bond. Teeth bit into flesh.

Arthur screamed.

 

The following days were so absurd in trying to go back to normality that Arthur decided to cancel them from his memory. If ever the thought appeared, he tried to distract himself. His new scent was enough for memento.

Then Alfred, who had already done whatever he could to apologize, proposed to Arthur. After all marriage, for a bonded alpha and omega, was more a formality. In no time, Arthur was wearing a wedding ring.

He told himself it was better like this.

 

Some time after the brief ceremony, Alfred asked him.

“Do you love me?”

Arthur swallowed. Alfred chaos exasperated him. His character way too expansive caused him a headache. Still he liked Alfred company. Sometimes he found himself smiling in watching the other sleeping.

He hadn’t still figured out if it was his feelings or the omega’s.

He knew however that Love was a totally different matter.

He couldn’t sweeten the pill.

“No,” he answered.

Alfred became gloom. Arthur saw his alpha’s neurones trying to connect the new information to the one he already had. Damn it all, he hated to see him that state.

“But it doesn’t mean I can’t learn to love you,” he rushed to clarify. He blushed, surely. Alfred looked at him, tilting his head. He looked like a big, curious pup.

“It’s useless to dwell on the past,” Arthur continued, struggling to keep his eyes fixed on the others’, no matter how his prey instincts yelled “danger” every time he met Alfred blue irises.

“We could try to make this union work. I can start to love some small gestures,” he conceded.

Maybe the person called Arthur would’ve found a equilibrium for living the rest of his life with the person called Alfred.

“Like having breakfast together and remembering not to prepare tea in the microwave,” Alfred suggested.

“It’s a start.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not betated. Also I'm sorry for the OOC.
> 
> Come visit my tumblr: gwen-chan.tumblr.com


End file.
